


Dandelions and Jim

by Joules Mer (joulesmer)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Getting Together, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joulesmer/pseuds/Joules%20Mer
Summary: The last thing Jim Kirk remembered of 2260 was a flash of light accompanying an exclamation of surprise from the ensign piloting their shuttle— neither of which tended to bode well where space travel was concerned.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Past James T. Kirk/Carol Marcus
Comments: 103
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I’m pretty sure others have already done a better job with this trope, but I couldn’t resist a shot as well. It’s October after all.

The last thing Jim Kirk remembered of 2260 was a flash of light accompanying an exclamation of surprise from the ensign piloting their shuttle— neither of which tended to bode well where space travel was concerned. 

The next moment, a sickening wave of dizziness ran through them and instead of empty space there was a vessel hanging in front of them. Swallowing hard to keep his lunch in place, Jim shook off the disorientation to see Ensign Umera appeared similarly queasy. 

Before they could react, the comm crackled and a human voice rang through the shuttle, “Unidentified vessel, this is the USS Aldrin. We cannot read your transponder. Please respond.”

Flicking on the comm, Jim replied, “This is Captain James T. Kirk on the shuttle Copernicus. We were on a diplomatic mission to meet with the representative from Alpha Cygnus II when we encountered some form of spatial anomaly.”

“We’re bringing you on board. Stand by.”

“Is the Enterprise within range? They should have been monitoring our progress.”

A short silence turned into an awkward pause, then the comm screen flickered to life so the captain of the Aldrin was visible as he replied, “Captain Kirk— I don’t think you understand.” She shared a sideways glance with her XO, before continuing, “It’s 2264. You’ve been missing for over three years.”

Ensign Umera’s mouth dropped open and he muttered, “My mom’s going to be _pissed_.”

“The Enterprise is currently in the Antares cluster attempting to map the maelstrom and will not be in comm range for several weeks.”

Which was how Jim and Umera found themselves whisked off the shuttle and into a battery of tests in the Aldrin’s medical bay. Somewhere in between the genetic profiling and the cognitive assessment battery a woman Jim didn’t recognize appeared wearing command gold. She waited at the fringes until the doctor in charge gave her a nod, then stepped up and introduced herself as Captain Cervantes.

Jim recognized the name as a commander who had applied for the XO posting on the Enterprise after the Nero affair.

There was something sympathetic dancing in her eyes as she announced, “We’ve set a course for Earth, maximum warp. There was a lot of finger-pointing when your shuttle disappeared, Kirk. It got bad— nearly derailed the peace process. Barnett wants you moved straight to HQ under a comms blackout until you can be debriefed. We should be there in seven hours, so please sit tight in here until then.”

Seven hours was a long time to be locked in a treatment room, alone, with your thoughts and the abstract concept of _three missing years_. Jim never thought he’d be grateful to be ushered onto a transporter padd to beam down to an interrogation with the admiralty, but at least it was a step out of lockdown. 

And interrogation was the right word for it. Despite the medical scans it seemed like each admiral wanted to get in their own question to test if he really was James Tiberius Kirk. It was Chandra who eventually called time on the proceedings. Finally breaking formalities, he offered some personal advice as he did so, “Lie low, Jim. At least for a week, until we can set diplomatic efforts into play. Trusted family only. We’ll set up a private residence for you until everything is properly public.”

The private quarters were just that: tucked away in a currently unoccupied diplomatic compound. Jim wandered into the back garden with a padd, settling into a duraplast chair that looked more suited to a Tellarite than a human. The Enterprise’s orders were just as described on the Aldrin: a five-week scientific mission beyond Antares. Pulling up the personnel database, Jim entered a list of queries and then scanned the results:

_Spock, S'chn T'gai, Commander, USS Enterprise_  
_McCoy, Leonard H., Commander / MD, Starfleet Medical HQ_  
_Uhura, Nyota, Lt. Commander, USS Enterprise_  
_Scott, Montgomery, Lt. Commander, USS Enterprise_

The discrepancy made him murmur, “Bones?” Brow furrowed, he called up McCoy’s personal file and an address in San Francisco confirmed the Earthside posting. Chandra’s warning had been clear: _trusted family only_. So far as Jim was concerned, Bones was a better definition of that than Winona.

He hovered over the commlink button for a long moment, then changed his mind: Bones was a devotee of _seeing is believing_ after all— particularly where Jim himself was concerned.

Stepping out of the automated taxi- flitter, the address wasn’t what Jim had expected— instead of a condo, it was an honest to goodness _house_. 

It was a little after eleven o’clock on a Sunday morning and someone was clearly at home, as the front porch was only separated from the inside by a screen door. Mouth suddenly dry at the strangeness of it all, Jim mounted the steps to find someone staring back at him from inside the shaded entryway. 

The figure was less than a meter tall, and after his brain briefly went to _Keenser?_ Jim realized it was in fact a human just inside the screen. A _small_ human, with a wide open mouth. Carefully, he offered a gentle, “Hi.” 

Jim’s greeting didn’t have the desired effect, as it was met with running-away footsteps and a high-pitched cry of, “Dandelion!”

Flummoxed, Jim stood on the porch and waited. “Dandelion” had been yelled with the importance of a name, but unless the universe was playing a joke on him, he must be at the wrong house. 

He was on the verge of turning away when a familiar voice, laced with disbelief, called, “ _Jim_.”

It was Bones— he looked lankier than Jim had seen him before, as if he ate well but didn’t get much time in the gym. There were a few threads of grey at his temples confirming that, no, the admiralty hadn’t been lying about three lost years.

“Heavens—” Bones’ mouth worked for a moment, as if he’d forgotten how to speak, then he managed an even more emphatic, “ _Jim?_ ”

“Bones!”

And then Leonard took four almost-running steps down the hall and the screen was yanked open and Jim was swept into a hug so tight he swore he could feel his ribs creaking. 

The older man was muttering something unintelligible into the crook of Jim’s neck and they tilted almost precariously off balance before they managed to right themselves against the door frame, so intertwined they’d have both fallen over. Eventually, Leonard pulled back to an arm’s length apart, with a firm grip on Jim’s shoulders as if afraid the younger man could disappear again as he asked, “Where the hell have you been?”

“Nowhere, Bones. We were on the survey mission and then,” Jim raised a shoulder in a shrug that conveyed his own confusion, “there was a spatial anomaly and then the Aldrin was hailing us and it was yesterday morning.”

“It hasn’t been any time at all?” Complex emotions were crossing the older man’s face as he pressed, “Not three years?”

“Not even three days.”

“And you’re okay?” Eyebrows drawing together, Leonard demanded, “Who checked you out?”

“The CMO on the Aldrin— they ran about a million scans and kept me in the medical bay for the entire seven hour trip back to Earth.”

There was a rough husk in Leonard’s voice and the grip tightened on Jim’s shoulders as he retorted, “Not _nearly_ enough scans.” 

The little girl tugged at Leonard’s pant leg with an insistent whine that sounded vaguely like, “Dan- _dee_.” Releasing Jim’s shoulders, Leonard quickly stooped and then drew her up with him.

“Wait—” Whatever was happening was so far from what Jim expected he could barely make sense of it enough to ask, “You’re Dandelion?”

Leonard rolled his eyes, but fondly, and in a tone roughly laced with emotion admitted, “She had a little trouble with ‘Daddy Len’ when she was starting to talk.”

And didn’t that make something skitter to a halt in Jim’s brain. Aware his mouth was agape, he closed his jaw with a click before managing to squeak out, “She—”

Leonard hoisted the child higher in his arms and talked over the younger man to announce, “Jim, this is Georgia Wallace Kirk.” 

Jim could suddenly see the Kirk in her lips and nose— not to mention her bright blue eyes. Poleaxed, he could only stare dumbly as Leonard continued the other half of the introduction.

“Georgia, this here is Jim.”

“ _Daddy_ Jim?” She peered at him sideways but didn’t look at all inclined to let go of the grip that she had around Leonard’s neck.

Leonard’s voice seemed to catch in his throat, and he had to swallow hard to properly get out, “Yeah, Georgie, he is.”

“She’s mine?” Jim felt like he wasn’t quite touching the ground. His limbs were numb and there was a buzzing in his ears as he asked, “Mine and Carol’s?”

“I gather you did a little celebrating being alive before we finally finished working out just what all had been affected by your rejuvenation.”

And he had, too. They had. One random night before the Enterprise re-launch when Carol was probably still reeling from it all and they’d wound up at his apartment too late and too alone to do anything else. 

A flush was racing up Jim’s neck and Leonard’s eyes softened. “She’s just turned three years old.” Georgia helpfully thrust three fingers in Jim’s direction. Sensing the younger man was utterly lost, Leonard offered, “Why don’t you come in? We were starting to fix lunch.”

A pair of men’s boots sat next to little green velcro sneakers on the floor. A leather jacket and a small purple raincoat hung on pegs inside the door. As he stumbled after Leonard down the hallway, Jim couldn’t help but ask, “Is Carol…”

Without turning, Leonard cut him off before he could finish the question, “No.” 

Approaching a doorway, he set Georgia down and with a hand on her shoulder gently said, “Georgia, please go play with Peaches while Jim and I talk. We’ll call you for lunch.”

“Grilled cheese, please?”

“Okay,” Leonard’s smile carried a fond indulgence, as if this was a predictable request, “if you go on now.”

With one last searching glance back towards Jim, the little girl nodded and disappeared around the doorframe. Jim could only mouth, _Peaches?_ at Leonard in a way that made the older man roll his eyes.

They settled into chairs at the round kitchen table by unspoken agreement, two meters of vintage wood between them.

A belated observation occurred to Jim, “She has your accent.”

“I went home after Carol passed— my mom helped out a lot. We’ve only been back in San Francisco three months.”

“Why’d you come back?”

The hint of a wry smile curled Leonard’s lips and he admitted, “Turns out you’ve ruined me: I’m not cut out to be a country doctor anymore. I was bored out of my skull as the neurosurgery lead at Atlanta General. Longest year and a half of my life. Philip Boyce showed up on my doorstep five months ago and offered me the neuro lead at Starfleet Medical with a research chair in xenoneurology— he was an old friend of Chris Pike’s. Guess he’d been keeping tabs on us and heard through the grapevine I wasn’t so happy.”

Mentions of Chris still caught Jim off guard, and this morning was no different. It was enough to give this stomach an unexpected lurch and he dropped his gaze to the table, worrying the cuff of his sleeve between the thumb and forefinger of his other hand.

The silence stretched for a long moment, until Leonard caught the gesture and offered, “I, uh, have some of your clothes here. I think.” He rubbed a hand through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “We might have to go through some boxes, but if you want to get out of that monkey suit...”

Raising his gaze from the table, Jim managed a ghost of a smile to accompany the heartfelt, “Please.” The utilitarian Starfleet medical jumpsuit they had him change into on the Aldrin felt entirely wrong against his skin, which only compounded the strangeness of the situation.

Following Leonard up two flights of stairs into an attic revealed that _some boxes_ was an understatement.

“Bones,” Jim’s eyebrows drew together in disbelief, “Did you pack up _all_ my stuff?”

“No one else knew what to do with it,” Leonard grumbled as he stepped further into the room and cast his eyes over the opaque storage tubs as if looking for clues, “I wasn’t going to let it molder in some ‘fleet storage unit.” He set to work shoving boxes around as Jim stood helplessly to the side. Eventually, he gave a grunt of recognition and opened the top of a large storage tote to reveal folded clothing. Pushing the box towards Jim, he said, “Take this one downstairs— it should have a selection of your civvies and I can loan you some sweats for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“You’re sure as hell not going back to whatever ‘fleet housing they’ve put you in when I have a perfectly good guest bedroom. Come on.” Leading the way back to the upper floor, he waved towards an open doorway, “The guest is an en suite. I’m next door and Georgia is down the hall. If you get changed now, I’ll find you some shaving stuff and something to sleep in after lunch.” At Jim’s nod, Leonard quickly made his way downstairs.

Despite never seeing the other man live outside of ‘fleet housing before, the guest room felt like Bones. Comfortable in a way institutional furniture never was— one surprise was the framed schematic of the Enterprise over the bed. The cross section revealed both the bridge and the medical bay in minute detail. The other walls were more predictable: a painting of an old farmhouse that Jim recognized as belonging to the McCoys, a mirror in an antique oak frame, and a low bookshelf that seemed to have collected an assortment of padds.

The clothes had a slightly shut-in scent to them, as if they had grown stale while locked away. Pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans and an old t-shirt, Jim gave up on looking for socks and simply padded back downstairs barefoot.

Leonard was standing by the stove and Georgia was seated behind a marmalade ball of fur on the center of the kitchen table.

Stopping in the doorway in surprise, Jim blurted out, “A tribble? I thought you hated them.”

Waving a spatula in the vague direction of the table, Leonard offered, “Peaches is the great-grandtribble of Lazarus.”

“You gave my child a mutant super-tribble?”

“Well,” Leonard managed a slightly sly smile, “her last name _is_ Kirk.”

Georgia looked between them, then piped up, “Daddy Len?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can Daddy Jim have grilled cheese too?”

Leonard raised an eyebrow, “You want a grilled cheese, Jim?”

Masking his amusement that Georgia seemed wholly capable of pronouncing Leonard’s name, and that Dandelion was a _nickname_ , Jim winked at the other man and replied, “Yeah, I would, actually. Thanks Georgia.”

She gave a little jerk of a nod, as if putting the universe in its proper place, then reached out and prodded the tribble in a way that had it release a flurry of purrs. Glancing up to find Jim still standing in the doorway, she frowned and then pointed at the chair across the table, “You sit there.”

That was him told. Jim slipped into the chair only for Leonard to place a gentle hand on his shoulder and deposit a plate with a grilled cheese sandwich. “Thanks, Bones.” The hand gave a squeeze, then the other man did the same for Georgia before retrieving his own lunch from the stove. 

They ate in silence for a minute, regarding each other over their sandwiches without knowing quite what to say. Once Georgia had finished two of her quarters, Leonard ventured to break the ice. “Georgia, why don’t you tell Jim what you did yesterday?”

Georgia’s gaze swiveled over to Jim and she dropped a crust to exclaim, “I saw Walter!”

“Oh?” Bemused, but appreciating the effort, Jim asked, “Who’s Walter?”

In response, Georgia held up an arm and then gave a full-body wriggle that just about had her squirming off her chair.

Taking a sip of water, Leonard clarified, “He’s a wolf eel at the aquarium.”

Oh. Jim leaned forwards and asked conspiratorially, “Do you like Walter?”

She gave an emphatic nod.

“What do you like best about him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Is he?”

Another nod.

Jim could sense Leonard watching closely in his peripheral vision, but kept all his attention on the little girl across the table as he asked, “You know what else is shy?”

Sandwich forgotten, she gave a little shake of her head.

“Hermit crabs.” Jim nodded, and mimed with his hands, “If you get close they hide deep in their shells.”

“Like a snail?”

“Even faster. They duck inside before you can get a good look!”

Eyes lighting up, Georgia started, “Daddy—”

Leonard mildly interjected without looking up from his plate, “You’ve already got a tribble, you can’t have a hermit crab.” 

Jim couldn’t help but choke back a laugh at the look of disappointment on Georgia’s face. It was so close to one he’d seen in his own childhood holos— clowning around back at the farmhouse with Sam before his mom shipped out when he turned eight. Glancing sideways, he caught amusement dancing in Leonard’s eyes as well, along with a warning of death if he let on that adults might find the expression in any way amusing.

Jim turned back to his lunch, not realizing the other man kept watching him until Leonard softly said, “You look tired, Jim. How long did they keep you busy?”

“I dunno,” Jim frowned as he tried to count, “it was late in the day when the anomaly hit, then seven hours on the Aldrin; I might have dozed off at some point in their med bay, then we debriefed for a few hours this morning.”

Eyebrows drawing together, Leonard gently asked, “And you haven’t had a night’s sleep?” 

Wordlessly, Jim shook his head.

“H—” biting back the word that came naturally, Leonard corrected, “Heck, Jim. You must be exhausted. Georgia and I were just going to relax at home today. Why don’t you go take a nap in the guest room while we do things down here?”

It sounded _good_ , even though Jim had never been fond of succumbing to a nap.

It felt even better. Sinking into a soft bed that smelled like the laundry soap Bones had bought off-campus for all their years at the academy, Jim felt himself finally lower his guard since this whole mess had started.


	2. Chapter 2

Bones would drop the weirdest shit on him at unexpected times. 

Wiping down the work surface in the kitchen Leonard paused in wringing out the sponge and said, “Scotty and I got shitfaced on your 30th birthday— it’s what we thought you’d want.” Jim paused with a forkful of scrambled eggs halfway up to his face, but the other man turned away and ran the faucet before he could reply.

As Leonard briskly carried a sleepy Georgia past Jim towards the stairs. “Carol was insistent on her name— she said it suited us.” Adrift in the other man’s wake, Jim could only wonder, which us?

“Carol had postpartum depression— we got it under control, but everything with her family and then you disappearing… it was a lot. I wouldn’t have let her go on that mission if I’d had any thought she wasn’t fit for duty.” Eyes on the rain hitting the windows, Leonard firmly stated, “It was an accident.”

“What mission?” Jim turned to find the other man was already halfway out of the living room. “Bones?”

Carrying a laundry basket towards the basement stairs, Leonard didn’t even pause next to Jim as he matter-of-factly noted, “She comms her Granny Win on Thursdays.”

Jim didn’t know what the hell to make of any of it.

They’d been coexisting for two days before Jim came down for breakfast on Wednesday morning and found Leonard wearing his uniform as he drank a cup of coffee. Raising an eyebrow as he reached for what had become his own mug, Jim asked, “Going into HQ today?”

“Should’ve yesterday, truth be told.” Leonard’s smile was soft and slightly rueful. “Any longer and Boyce’ll come after me for dereliction of duty.”

They hadn’t talked— not really. Georgia was ever-present during the day and after putting her to bed Leonard had settled in his office and tackled what was likely a small mountain of neglected work. Jim had busied himself with poring over the telemetry from his shuttle and liaising with the small scientific and diplomatic team the admiralty had convened to investigate. It would have been awkward as hell, if there wasn’t something inherently comforting about simply existing in Bones’ orbit.

Realizing he didn’t know much about the other man’s life, Jim poured himself a cup of coffee as he asked, “You normally work at the hospital?”

“And the research center.” Taking another sip of his coffee, Leonard admitted, “I, uh, told them I needed a couple of days, but I have a surgery scheduled this afternoon.”

“And Georgia goes with you?”

“Five days a week from around eight to five she stays at the preschool onsite.” Warmth suffused his tone, “She’s popular— loads of little friends of all sorts of species. Sometimes we do things in the city with them at the weekend.”

Do _you_ have friends, Jim wanted to ask, but Georgia was prancing into the room already dressed to go out.

Gulping down the last of his coffee, Leonard announced, “We’ve got to run— I’ll try to wrap it up early so we can be home by five— five-thirty at the latest.”

Jim trailed them down the hallway as Leonard carried a little purple backpack and gently ushered Georgia towards the front door. As she sat to put her shoes on, Leonard seemed to be looking anywhere but Jim.

After several seconds it was obvious enough that Jim had to ask, “Bones?”

“Just—” Leonard looked slightly embarrassed, but cleared his throat and persisted, “Be here when I get home, okay?”

Wishing he didn’t feel so adrift himself— that he knew how to wipe that furrow of worry off Bones’ forehead, Jim softly replied, “Of course.” The other man looked so damn defenseless that Jim couldn’t resist reaching out and patting his shoulder in a gesture meant to be reassuring.

Leonard straightened, managing a smile as he said, “Come on, Georgie, we’ve got to run.”

Watching them go down the steps hand-in-hand, Jim felt an odd, tugging sensation in his chest.

********************

Alone in the house for the first time, Jim couldn’t help but snoop.

He tried not to. 

He even spent the first two hours sprawled on the sofa watching the holonews as a distraction. Hour three and as the news started to repeat, the itch to explore the rest of the house started to grow. Jim managed to ignore it for two more hours by poring over the science team’s latest report on his disappearance.

Leonard had handled Georgia’s bedtime routine alone and Jim hadn’t had cause to be in her room yet. The door was wide open so Jim didn’t feel he was doing anything untoward by stepping inside. 

The first thing that struck him was the photos— photos of Carol, photos of Jim himself, photos of Bones and Carol and a baby Georgia. Photos of Spock and Uhura and Scotty and Sulu and Chekov. It was as if the entire command crew had been transported into the nursery. There was a stuffed sehlat on the bed that Jim sensed Uhura’s hand in, and a drawing easel that had the faintest hint of being hand-made by Scotty. Looking up, JIm froze in surprise to see an array of stars, planets and nebulae— he vaguely recognized one configuration as being a quadrant in their orders for the five year mission. From the look of it, the ceiling must glow in the dark. 

There was a mobile over the bed: the Enterprise hung in the position of honor in the center, surrounded by shuttlepods and smaller crafts whose names Jim recognized.

And Bones had done it all himself.

The other man was raising Georgia to be _Jim’s_ daughter as much as his own.

Backing out of the room, Jim stood in the hallway for a moment, considering.

Bones’ bedroom door was shut— as it had been since Jim arrived. It was wrong, he knew that, and yet Jim couldn’t quite help himself. The knob turned easily— the door was unlocked. Stepping over the threshold Jim turned on the lights and froze. The master bedroom was dominated by a king sized bed and large oak wardrobe. The decor was comfortable, but masculine— a dark grey bedspread, wooden furniture, and a vintage anatomy poster. 

There were photos of them scattered around the room: one of the entire command crew on the Enterprise’s bridge; one of Leonard and Jim in their cadet reds, beaming at the camera after finishing their second year exams; one of them in just their swimming shorts, sprawled on a beach during shore leave under a violet sky; and one Jim recognized as not long after his resurrection— Jim still in his hospital gown, sound asleep. Leonard was similarly deeply asleep, dark hair falling forward as he slumped in a chair by the head of the bed. Even asleep, their torsos were angled towards each other, as if they’d been in conversation. Uhura had taken the photo, only sharing it with them a month later when Jim was finally cleared for light duty.

And not just photos: that was Jim’s leather jacket on a peg by the closet.

George Kirk’s antique novels on the small bookshelf.

The Avudi funerary beads gifted on their first successful mission with the Enterprise hung over a corner of the mirror— just as Jim had set them in his own quarters.

His Palm Leaf of Axanar Peace Mission sat on the dresser, blue velvet box open so the medal glinted in the light.

It was as if Jim himself had just left the room.

Backing out of the room, Jim gently closed the door and made his way back downstairs. Settling heavily on the sofa, he allowed himself to succumb to utter confusion and the barest hint of a wild hope that this was all a dream and he could still wake in his quarters on the Enterprise.

An hour later and nothing was any more clear when the doorbell rang through the house. Assuming he’d have to lie low, Jim nonetheless made his way to the front door to consult the security display. What he found made Jim’s eyebrows leap in surprise and he opened the door with an involuntary, “Spock?”

The half-Vulcan raised his head so his features were visible under his hood as he stated, “It is very agreeable to see you returned to us, old friend.”

“Ambassador—” Jim took a step back to try and make room in the doorway, “I didn’t realize you were coming.” 

Accepting the implicit invitation to come inside, the elder Spock explained, “Admiral Boyce was asked to examine your medical scans and offer his professional opinion as to the veracity of your claims. As a personal friend of Christopher Pike’s, and someone I knew in my own reality, Doctor Boyce and I remained in somewhat frequent communication. He contacted me three days ago to express concern for Leonard and my own counterpart, should his assessment be incorrect. While I trust his medical judgment, I believe that certain relationships may struggle to mend without concrete proof of your identity.”

Leading the way into the living room, Jim asked, “You want to make sure I’m me?”

Nodding his confirmation, Spock explained, “It will be significantly more controlled than our previous encounter, however, I cannot deny that I was affected by your disappearance.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Jim felt as if he was hanging at the edge of a precipice. A long moment stretched, then Jim replied, “Okay.” 

This time, Spock’s mind was a familiar presence. The emotional transference was more of a lingering sense of shock and worry that melted into grief as Jim’s disappearance had stretched. Jim felt himself utterly exposed, examined, and judged worthy. In return, flashes of the last three years— enough to prompt a wave of acceptance that curled around him like a blanket. Three years. Gone. 

The meld ended abruptly and Jim felt his knees go slack— almost falling but for a still strong hand that gripped his upper arm.

“Jim?”

He managed to gasp, “Spock?” A rustle of robes and the Vulcan moved closer— gently helping Jim to bend down and sit on the edge of the sofa. ”M’okay,” slurred out of his mouth, then a more clear, “I’m fine,” after managing to take a few more gulping breaths of air. “It’s just— a lot.”

Nodding his understanding, Spock agreed, “Appreciating the passing of missed time is indeed an overwhelming experience.”

And it was an appreciation, of a sort. The three years were suddenly tangible in a way they hadn’t been before and he implored, “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

Settling heavily on the other side of the sofa, the ambassador asked, “Should not Leonard be the one to do that?”

Yes— of course he should, but what Bones would tell him would be different. For now, Jim just needed the facts.

Sensing the truth from whatever he saw on Jim’s face, Spock capitulated with a soft, “Very well.” Electing to start at the beginning, he continued, “I was on New Vulcan when the Enterprise reported that your shuttle had vanished and requested scientific support to explore an unknown spatial anomaly…”

Jim interrupted the narrative several times to ask questions, but otherwise trusted Spock to provide a full account of what he knew. The more he heard, the more an ache settled over him. Carol was gone. Enterprise’s five year mission scrapped barely six months after it started. Leonard giving-up on the sense of family he’d found with the command crew to remain on Earth with Jim’s daughter. And Georgia— Spock referred to her as an ‘unexpected blessing’ with typical Vulcan understatement.

They’d just caught up to the present day when the front door scraped a second before Leonard called, “Jim?”

“In here, Bones. We’ve got company.”

Brow furrowed, Leonard peered into the living room and stiffened. “Georgia— run upstairs and get changed into something that doesn’t have paint on it.”

A small figure with splatters of blue dashed past the doorway and up the stairs.

Stepping into the room, it only took the other man a moment to realize the significance of the visit. “It’s really Jim?”

“It is indeed.”

Leonard sat down heavily on a chair, waving away Jim’s reaching hands.

“I believe it would be best if I took my leave.” Standing, the elder Spock brushed aside the other men’s token protest as he saw himself out, “I will remain on Earth for several days. I would be gratified to see you both before I depart, at a time more amenable to conversation.”

Alone with Leonard, Jim waited as the other man sat with his hands covering his face. 

Eventually, Leonard lowered his hands and admitted, “I don’t know why that hit me so hard. Maybe I wasn’t truly letting myself trust it was really you.”

“I went into your room while you were out.”

Leonard stilled, as if he understood exactly what Jim was actually saying. Softly, he replied, “I guess I wanted to keep you close.”

The stalemate was broken by footsteps coming down the stairs— Leonard visibly pulled himself together and had a welcoming smile on his face by the time Georgia leaned into the room asking, “Daddy?”

“Yeah, sweetpea?”

“I made the floor blue.”

Leonard visibly winced, then heaved himself out of the chair, “Alright, let me have a look.”

Jim made dinner— it seemed about the least he could do. The look of surprise and appreciation on Leonard’s face a half-hour later when he led a blessedly human-colored Georgia back downstairs made that odd tugging sensation repeat itself in Jim’s chest.

The peace offering seemed to be accepted, as Leonard tucked into his dinner and Georgia didn’t need any encouragement to do the same. Feet swinging in the air, she told them both about her day in between bites of tortellini. Leonard seemed to do a better job following the story, but he had the advantage of at least knowing some of the names. Jim managed to ask a few questions that put a smile on her face and had her launching into telling him all about something else.

When the meal was over it was Leonard who suggested Georgia might like to take Jim into the living room to color until bedtime. Recognizing the other man’s intent, Jim let himself be drawn into the other room while Leonard stayed behind with the dishes.

They drew sehlats of varying degrees of anatomical correctness, then planets that Jim had visited with the Enterprise, then space sehlats visiting the planets that Jim had also visited with the Enterprise.

Jim had just finished drawing a halo of blue light around the starboard nacelle when Georgia looked up from her sehlat in a tutu and met his eyes as she solemnly announced, “I was borned on there.”

“Really?” That detail hadn’t been mentioned. In fact, Jim knew precious little about her beyond two days worth of observations.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, then selected a red crayon before continuing, “but Daddy Len had to bring me back to Earth after mommy died.” There was no emotional content to her delivery— it was as if she was recounting a fact she’d been told about herself.

Unsure what the hell counted as age-appropriate empathy, Jim offered, “My dad’s dead too— he died when I was born.”

Adding a tiara to the sehlat, or a scribble approximating a tiara, she nodded, eyes still on the page as she replied, “Daddy Len said that’s why I just have a Grammy Win and a Grandma.”

“I’m sure they both love you very much.” Bones’ mom would, he was sure of it. ‘Granny Win’ was more of an abstract concept.

“Georgia,” Leonard leaned into the room with a smile, “bed time. Say goodnight to Jim and get on upstairs.”

She hugged him— an impulsive half-second squeeze around his neck that Jim barely managed to return before it was over.

Jim sat on his own in the living room until Leonard reappeared twenty minutes later. There was a slope to the older man’s back that suggested it had been a long day, but he set to work collecting the crayons and shuffling through the papers with a thoughtful eye, “These are good— you want to put one on the stasis unit?”

Trying to help tidy up, Jim picked up Georgia’s backpack to return it to the hook by the front door.

“Careful— that’s full of acorns.”

Jim frowned, uncertain he’d heard correctly. “Acorns?”

“She wants a pet squirrel.”

The matter-of-fact acceptance in Leonard’s tone made something sour in the pit of Jim’s stomach and he softly asked, “How are you so good at this?”

“Jim?”

Tidying forgotten, Jim sat down heavily on the sofa and admitted, “I’m not ready to be someone’s dad.”

A long moment of silence, and then the cushion dipped as Leonard sat down beside him. Another moment, and then a tentative arm wrapped over Jim’s shoulders as the other man gently replied, “No one ever truly is.” Sighing at the memory, he added, “You should have seen me after I took her.”

“Were you and Carol…”

“No,” Something about the way Leonard looked suddenly horrified was reassuring, “not in that way at all.” A range of emotions flitted across Leonard’s face, settling into a pensive frown as he explained, “She commed me shortly after you disappeared to say she was pregnant. The Enterprise was redirected to Starbase Eleven while they tried to figure out what to do with us— after two weeks it was starting to look like you weren’t going to simply reappear. 

“Carol met us at the station— I guess she still had connections in the remaining admiralty because she had orders allowing her to join the Enterprise TDA for a mission they set up inspecting the disarmament following the Praxas-Illyria treaty. We needed a weapons specialist for it and they were willing to overlook her condition as it was a low-risk assignment: spot checks, compliance reports, and disarmament plans. She was the expert on the missile design they use so lots of people wanted her assigned to the task force. At first she was only supposed to stay four weeks, then return to Earth. 

“We spent a lot of downtime together and got to talking— she didn’t have much in the way of family back on Earth. She actually went to boarding school in London growing up, so the cousins she did have she didn’t know very well. I guess you could say we got close— just as friends. We both wanted you back. Some new weapons caches came to light and the timetable got stretched until I had to testify to the brass that it would be okay for her to stay on the Enterprise longer than planned.

“It was tough for Carol after Georgia was born, particularly when the mission wasn’t scheduled to last more than four months longer even with the extension. They loved Georgie. You should have seen Sulu helping Chekov hold her— the kid was terrified of dropping her at first. Uhura used to sing her lullabies, and I caught Spock playing his Vulcan harp for her more than once.” 

“You said there was an accident?”

Leonard swallowed hard, then nodded, sorrow coloring his tone as he continued, “She’d, ah, been in for treatment two weeks prior, and I’d been taking more of a role helping with Georgia. They tried to drag it up in the inquest, but I _swear_ , Jim, she was fit for duty. Carol’d told me herself the week before that some of the weaponry was so old and so modified it was almost unpredictable. She’d beamed down for an inspection of a disarmament facility. There was an explosion; the entire away team was killed.” His breath hitched and then Jim was jostled slightly as Leonard abruptly stood up. Ignoring Jim’s soft, “Bones?” he made this way over to a glass fronted liquor cabinet that opened with his thumbprint. A clink of glass, then he returned with two tumblers of amber liquid.

Accepting a glass of whiskey, Jim watched the other man closely as he sat down again, placing the bottle on the coffee table in front of them. 

Leonard touched his glass to Jim’s without offering a toast, but there was something of a shared understanding as they both took a large sip of the liquor. They savored it for a moment, then drank again, quickly draining the initial pour.

Topping off their glasses, Leonard took another mouthful before continuing his story. “Georgia’d been with me that day. It was pretty slow in med bay when we were just hanging out in orbit. The facility was completely destroyed— there was no need for a doctor. I took her home with me that night, with one of those portable crib things that Scotty had made for us. She got fussy around midnight so I took her to the aft observation lounge and we watched the stars together. I promised her she’d be okay— that she was your kid, Jim, and I’d make sure that wherever she went, she’d know we loved her. That you’d have loved her too. We stayed the whole night, just us and the stars.” 

The whiskey was putting a lassitude in his limbs, but he took another large mouthful before continuing, “Spock formally declared Carol deceased and we opened her will the next day— turns out she’d thought Georgia belonged with me.”

Tentatively, Jim slid a hand along a cushion until his fingers brushed against the other man’s shoulder. Taking another mouthful of his own drink, he simply waited for Leonard to continue.

“I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no.” One corner of Leonard’s mouth curled up in a ghost of a smile at some memory from those times. “Everyone was really supportive, but I couldn’t stay on the Enterprise indefinitely as a single parent. We did the rest of that mission, settled Carol’s affairs, got custody sorted. After that, going home just seemed like the right thing to do.”

“My mom— I don’t know how I’d have done it without her in those early days. I thought we could be happy in Atlanta, at first, but it was really the countryside I’d missed. My grandmother’s farm: that’s home. Not the city.” Leonard didn’t look at Jim as he admitted, “It was lonely.” Another gulp of whiskey and he poured more in each of their glasses. “San Francisco is better for me now. Starfleet: it matters. It—” another hesitation, another gulp of his drink, then he admitted, “It also makes me feel closer to you.”

Jim moved then, hitching closer on the sofa, initially just intending to wrap his hand more firmly over Leonard’s shoulder. As soon as he whispered, “Bones,” however, the other man shifted and turned, pressing his face into Jim’s shoulder in an approximation of a one-armed hug. A juddering breath wracked the older man’s frame and Jim just gripped him all the more tightly. If there were tears they were silent, betrayed only by Leonard’s uneven breathing. Unsure what to do, Jim simply waited, holding the other man as tightly as he could.

Eventually, Leonard’s breathing evened out and Jim carefully extricated himself to meet Leonard’s gaze. There was too much emotion in his eyes— more than Jim quite knew how to handle. Dodging the potential minefield, Jim said, “Come on, it’s not late but we’ve had enough whiskey.” He managed to quirk a half-smile as he suggested, “Georgia’ll be up early. Let’s get you to bed.”

Supporting Leonard as they made their inebriated way home wasn’t an unfamiliar position for Jim. Neither was pouring the other man into bed and turning out the lights. What was different was the hand that encircled Jim’s wrist accompanied by a soft, “Stay.”

Leonard was sprawled prostrate on the bed, and even with his head turned to one side his voice was slightly muffled as he repeated, “Stay.”

Jim didn’t know if this was a good idea, but the liquor had lowered his inhibitions as well and he always struggled to say no to Bones. The bed was a king, so he swallowed his reservations and said, “Move over.”

Leonard shifted sideways until he offered a Jim-sized strip of mattress. 

Since he’d spent the day in a soft pair of sweats and t-shirt, Jim didn’t bother undressing before crawling into bed and stretching out with a sigh. If the guest room mattress was good, this bed was even better. A rustle of blankets, then an arm loosely curled around Jim’s waist.

Softly, tongue loosened by the darkness, Leonard said, “I’ve mourned you twice now.”

Jim’s reply was equally soft, “I’m sorry.”

Mildly, Leonard replied, “Wasn’t saying it’s your fault.”

The arm around Jim’s waist tightened, pulling him gently against the line of the other man’s body. 

It felt good.

It was utterly perplexing.

The alcohol was tugging him under, but the gesture was enough of a surprise that he eventually mustered his courage and whispered, “Bones?”

The only reply was a breath with a little puff on the exhale that indicated the other man was already asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With extra thanks to Finnegancat, blancanieve , and LyradanaGreetsTheWind.

A hangover always woke Jim early. 

0600 and he muzzily surfaced to a soft mattress, a cocoon of warmth, and a vague sensation that he wasn’t alone.

He wasn’t alone… and it smelled like _Bones_. Just a trace of the particular aftershave the other man had used as long as they’d known each other. Jim’s eyes snapped open, watering in the sudden light but still able to take in the relaxed face and hair in disarray on the other pillow.

Jim’s mouth went dry. _Bones_. The temptation to reach out and curl his fingers along the line of the other man’s jaw was tempered only by the fear of breaking the moment.

Instead, he waited. Matching his breaths to Leonard’s, Jim let himself relax into the mattress as sunlight crept around the edges of the blinds. There was a scattering of freckles across the other man’s cheeks— more than he could remember seeing before. Dimly, Jim realized he must be spending more time outdoors. Years ago, Bones had returned from a summer vacation in Georgia with a constellation over the bridge of his nose.

The moments stretched into five, ten, fifteen minutes— Jim lost track of how long he simply waited, swathed in warmth and a suspension of the outside world.

Eventually, Leonard’s breath hitched and he shifted, frowning for a moment before blinking awake.

Jim was treated to the moment Leonard realized he wasn’t alone. The other man’s eyes widened in surprise, then a small smile curled the corners of his mouth and he drawled a soft, “Morning.”

The word sent an unexpected little _zing_ down Jim’s spine and he smiled in return as he replied, “Morning. Sleep well?”

Leonard’s smile turned rueful, “I think I had enough whisky to keep me out. You?”

“Oh yeah, and your mattress isn’t half bad either.”

“That’s because it was designed on Risa. It was kind of a fad last year, but they’re actually really good. Don’t roll over though, Georgia’ll be up soon.” Leonard’s expression minutely changed as he added, “Your mom’s going to comm today.”

Something squirmed in Jim’s belly and there was a faint tension in his voice as he replied, “When?”

“It depends on her schedule— usually they chat while I’m making dinner, but sometimes while we eat breakfast if she’s on shift later. The Lovell is doing engine trials this month so it’s been a bit variable.” Sensing the younger man’s uncertainty, Leonard reached out and gently clasped Jim’s biceps, “Don’t worry. I’ll answer the call, explain, and then step out with Georgia, whenever it is.” Something must have shown on his face because Leonard’s expression softened. “Hey,” a reassuring squeeze to the younger man’s arm, “it’ll be fine, Jim.”

“It’s… complicated.” How his mother could have taken his disappearance— they’d settled into a truce after he joined Starfleet: comms on his birthday, Mother’s Day, and her birthday slowly starting to grow into more after the Narada. They weren’t close, however. Not really.

Leonard exhaled at the understatement but agreed, “It is, but perhaps it’ll be easier than you expect.”

More conversation was forestalled by a pattering of light footsteps in the hallway and a still sleepy, “Dandelion?”

The doorknob rattled and Leonard gave a soft, “Duty calls,” before kicking back the quilt and rolling away to stand as he called, “Coming, sweetpea.” Jim watched as the other man finger combed his hair and offered a small smile as he said, “You can come out with me, you know. We don’t have to hide.”

Jim almost protested that he hadn’t planned to, but realised he wasn’t sure if that was the truth or a lie. Instead, he rolled out of bed and smoothed down his own hair before following Leonard into the hallway.

Georgia blinked owlishly at them from underneath a spectacular case of bedhead that could only be courtesy of the Kirk cowlick.

“Let’s wash your face and get dressed, come on.” She followed Leonard obediently down the hall to the bathroom and Jim crept back to the guest room to change out of day old sweats. The spectre of his mother had Jim rummaging through his clothing until he found a sweater that could pass for smart casual. He’d bought it after Pike had died— a spur of the moment purchase of something that felt more captainly when walking around San Francisco at the weekend. Slacks felt too much, so he pulled on a pair of jeans, checked himself in the mirror, then went downstairs.

Jim was sipping a mug of coffee at the kitchen table when Leonard and Georgia appeared, both dressed. The former set a padd on the table before turning to the stove while the latter clambered up onto a chair next to Jim.

“Good morning.”

Georgia blinked up at Jim for a moment, then held up something misshapen and blue and announced, “I got a slug.”

“Oh—” Jim looked more closely when she released her grip on the thing and was relieved to see it wasn’t a real slug. Instead, it looked like a partially rolled up child’s sock.

Without turning from the stove, Leonard announced, “I have to go in to check on my patient, but we can go to the park this afternoon.”

Georgia beamed in satisfaction with the park idea and started sliding the “slug” along the tabletop towards Jim. He made a show of moving his mug out of the way and managed to get her to giggle.

The moment was broken by the padd starting up an incessant chiming. Leonard and Jim both turned towards it and froze for a moment, before Leonard said, “Georgia, run along and check on Peaches.” She did as he said, sliding off the chair and scampering out of the room. Leonard quickly shut the door behind her, then favored Jim with a tight smile before answering the call.

A moment of lag, and then the deep space connection went through and he said, “Hi Winona.”

“Hi Len,” There was a warmth in her voice that made Jim shift in his seat, “Sorry for the morning call— we’ve got a calibration problem in the intermix relays and I’m going to have teams crawling around the bowels of engineering until it’s fixed.” Her lighthearted tone faltered at something she must have seen on Leonard’s face and she asked, “Is it not a good time?”

“No,” Leonard cleared his throat and assured, “Not at all. It’s just— it’s Jim.”

A blankness that Jim remembered from his childhood crossed her face as she asked, “Is there news?”

A complex expression crossed Leonard’s face— one that suggested he could still scarcely believe the words that were coming out of his mouth as he said, “He came back.” With that, he turned the padd so the camera was angled towards the younger man.

She exhaled his name in a “Jim” that was more a gust of air than a word.

Smiling weakly at the camera, Jim offered, “Hi mom.”

“Is Len...?” Her question trailed off as Leonard leaned back into the frame and confirmed, “He’s been staying with us since he got back four days ago.” A hand settled on Jim’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Georgia will wonder if she hears your voice, Winona. I’d best go keep her distracted and let you chat.”

Another squeeze to his shoulder and Jim was left alone with his mother.

Winona was leaning closer to the screen, eyes darting back and forth as she asked, “You’re alright?”

“I’m fine, Mom. There was an anomaly. It’s not official that I’m back yet— only the brass know because of the political fallout.”

“An anomaly?”

Jim nodded, “It just,” he shrugged, helplessly, “blipped and then it was three years later.”

“Oh, Jim.” Emotion choked her voice and she had to take a moment before she managed, “And you’re staying with Leonard? And Georgia?”

“They tried to get me to lie low in a diplomatic apartment, but you know me. I found Bones’ address and came to check it out.”

“You just appeared on his doorstep? After three years?”

Jim shrugged, helplessly, because it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“ _Jim_.” Her eyes were glistening and she had to give an audible sniff. “We’ve missed you so much, honey.”

_Honey_. He hadn’t heard that in a very long time. “I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”

“How are you? Really?”

“I’m okay.” She was looking at him in a way that seemed to go right through him and he was helpless to hold back. “It’s a lot. Georgia: she’s great, but I can’t believe she’s mine. Bones— he’s done so much.”

“He’d do anything for you, Jim.” There was something fond and sad mingling in her expression and her voice. “He was so determined to do the right thing, even when he was miserable in Atlanta. I don’t think he ever expected to take to the stars like he did because of you.”

Something inside Jim bristled at his mother telling him things about Bones that he didn't know.

Winona seemed to sense it, because her expression softened further. “You’re lucky, Jim, to have a man like that.”

“He’s a good friend.” That was true, but it felt somehow hollow.

A real smile made wrinkles fan out from her eyes as she agreed, “That too.” Cocking her head to one side, she regarded her son for a moment before asserting, “I’ve grown fond of him, you know. I hope you’re planning on keeping him around.”

Unsure quite what he was protesting, Jim rolled his eyes and replied, “Mom– it’s _Bones_. He’s not going anywhere.”

She hummed an affirmative, then looked off camera as an alarm chimed. 

“Duty calls?”

“I—”

“It’s okay, Mom. I know.” And the thing was, Jim did understand, even if some childish part of him protested. 

“Jim,” her voice broke, but she carried on, “I’m so glad you’re back. I love you.”

“Love you, Mom.”

Winona gave the screen one last, lingering look before the transmission ended. 

Jim was still staring at the padd when the kitchen door opened and soft footsteps crossed the room. 

Leonard stopped close enough to brush against Jim’s shoulder as he softly said, “Hey.”

“Hey, Bones.”

“Y’okay?”

Jim leaned sideways until he was pressing against the warmth of the other man as he replied, “Yeah.” A hand settled on his shoulder, reassuring and grounding all at once.

“You gonna be okay if I leave you with Georgia for a while?” Misinterpreting Jim’s surprised pause, he hastened to offer, “I can take her in with me. It’ll only be for an hour or two and the daycare—”

“No,” Jim quickly looked up and assured, “No, Bones, we’ll be fine.”

“You sure? I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that, but I do need to go in.”

“I’m sure, Bones, really.” Jim mustered a smile that was more real than diplomatic as he added, “But I wouldn’t say no to some suggestions of what to do.”

“That I can do.” He gave Jim’s shoulder another encouraging squeeze and announced, “She got a bike for her birthday that’s been languishing in the box with the terrible weather this month— you can assemble it. She’ll help if you ask her to bring specific things.”

Jim’s eyebrows drew together with the distinct sense he’d been had, Skeptically, he asked, “Do you have tools?” Leonard had never seemed particularly handy at the academy.

“There’s a toolkit in the garage.” While Jim was considering that, Leonard turned away and called, “Georgie!” She reappeared, without the sock slug. “You hop up here and eat your breakfast.” 

As she complied, Jim wondered if he’d been so well behaved as a child. One thing was clear: Georgia _adored_ Bones as much as he adored her. 

As Jim watched, the other man crouched to be at her eye level and said, “I have to go to the hospital. You’re to mind Jim while I’m gone and he’ll build you a bicycle.”

Her gaze swiveled over to Jim, eyes wide and mouth pursed in a little O of excitement.

Jim tried his best to look confident, because if he could fix a hoverbike a child’s bicycle should be a piece of cake. There wasn’t anything in her expression but utter faith and excitement, and Jim felt himself getting swept up in it as well. “You bet, Georgia.”

Leonard planted a kiss on the top of her head, shot a grateful look at Jim, and was out the door.

Alone, Jim waited as she finished her toast and fruit, then led the way to the garage where, sure enough, a fairly pristine toolkit was waiting on the shelf next to a box large enough to hold a bicycle frame and wheels. Unsure exactly what the other man had meant by having Georgia help, Jim set out the most likely tools a few meters away so she could fetch and return while he tinkered.

Aside from one mishap with a training wheel being bolted on backwards, it went smoothly. Even the tassels on the handlebars. When it was finished, gleaming in the light of the garage, Georgia turned wide eyes on Jim and he felt something tug deep in his chest. Committing the moment to memory, he asked, “You want to try it?”

She nodded enthusiastically and reached out to gently touch a purple tassel with an index finger. There was a helmet on the shelf so Jim carefully buckled it under her chin and opened the garage door to make room in the short driveway.

Georgia was uncoordinated at first, feet tangling in the pedals. Then the steering was a problem and Jim had to catch her before she could wobble into the wall. She went around and around, gradually gaining confidence. She seemed to be picking it up quickly, so Jim raised the training wheels one position. The wobbling increased and she flopped from side to side until Jim wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing. He moved to place a steadying hand on the back of the seat, trying to help her get a feel for pedaling fast and smoothly enough to keep it upright.

Ten more minutes of determined pedaling and Jim felt he could hold on more and more loosely. Another lap of the driveway and garage and he let go altogether, holding his breath as she wobbled, a training wheel touching down before she leaned forwards and it lifted off again. She managed an entire circuit just on two wheels and a whoop of encouragement made him jump. Turning he found Bones at the sidewalk, holding up his comm to take a holo of her going around and around Jim himself.

Spotting Leonard, Georgia gave a head bob of celebration that had her lose balance and veer into the shrubbery. To Jim’s relief, she just burst out laughing and allowed him to gently lift her free of the branches.

Brushing her off, Jim heard the other man moving to join them, comm still in hand as he said, “Stand with Daddy Jim and your bike, sweetpea, so I can get a picture for Grammy Win.” She moved quickly, as if it was a familiar request, beaming up at the camera as he leaned against Jim’s legs. Leonard snapped a few photos, then tucked the comm back into his pocket. “How about we have some lunch, and then you can have a go again?”

“Grilled cheese?”

“Okay, but that’s the last time this week.”

She scampered back into the garage, pushing the bike in front of her.

“I hope,” Jim trailed off, because he knew learning to ride a bike was supposed to be a _thing_ for parents. “I mean, she wanted to try and—”

Leonard gave a smile as he gently replied, “I thought you deserved a ‘first’ with her.”

That unknown thing in Jim’s chest swelled again and he leaned over to gently bump shoulders with the other man as they walked side by side up the steps. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the corner of Leonard’s mouth curling up just a little bit higher.

The moment was broken by the chirp of Jim’s comm, which could only herald official business as no one else knew the frequency. He paused to take the call while Leonard carried on ahead.

Ten minutes later, Jim entered the kitchen to find Leonard busy at the stove. At the other man’s raised eyebrow, he reported, “That was Barnett. I have two hours to give private warnings to people before the press announcement this afternoon. I need to try and contact Spock. I’ve got a secure comm frequency. I’m supposed to be in a photocall at three— they’re going to send a flitter with a dress uniform.”

Leonard slid the pot off the heat immediately and a tense expression briefly crossed his face as he said, “Best use my office.” He led the way and unlocked the comm system’s secure connection to the fleet network. Jim sank into the desk chair and wondered if he should ask the other man to join the call. Before he could decide, Leonard gave his shoulder a squeeze and said, “I’ll be in the kitchen with Georgia— lunch’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Alone, Jim took a moment to gather himself before sending the connection request. He’d marked it as high security and confidential, so it took a while before it was routed through and Spock appeared on the screen.

“Spock.”

“Jim.” Both eyebrows leapt at once, which was as close to shock as the Vulcan ever allowed.

Filling the silence, Jim explained, “I’m back, Spock. It was a spatial anomaly— poof, three years passed.”

It took a moment for the Vulcan to be able to respond, and there was an uncharacteristic waver in his voice as he said, “It is gratifying to see you well, Jim”

“It’s good to see you too.” Spock looked exactly the same to Jim’s eyes. None of the little signs of ageing that he’d spotted in other humans. “How’s the crew?”

“The crew is performing at near optimal levels.”

“Only near?”

“They do not seem to find Captain Ouindale as inspiring as you.”

“Well she is almost sixty years old and obsessed with gravitons. Science mission?”

“Indeed. One only a quantum theorist could appreciate.”

“Did you just call your mission boring, Spock?”

“On the contrary, I find quantum phenomena most interesting. The rest of the crew, however…”

Jim smiled in understanding. “Enough said. You want to call Uhura before you get in trouble?”

Nodding in acceptance, Spock thumbed on the internal ship’s comm and said, “Nyota, I believe you should join me in my quarters immediately.”

Whatever she’d heard in his tone was enough that it didn’t even take thirty seconds for Uhura to hurry into the room with a worried look on her face. Catching sight of the comm screen, she let out a soft cry of, “Jim!” Hurrying over to press shoulder-to-shoulder to Spock, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine— just fine. It was a spatial anomaly. I didn’t feel a thing.”

Looking more closely, her eyebrows rose in surprise, “You’re in San Francisco? At Leonard’s?”

“They spirited me back to HQ and I found his address. I’ve been back for a few days, but it was classified while they investigated what happened. We’ve been lying low while they worked out the diplomatic wrinkles. It’s going to be announced later today.” 

“And you have met your daughter.” It was a Vulcan question wrapped up in a statement.

“I have.” Jim found an unexpected catch in his throat as he confirmed, “She’s great, and Bones is amazing with her.”

Uhura was watching him closely, as if she couldn’t believe he was really there but also with a deeper scrutiny. Her expression softened, “It’s good to see you, Captain. I’m glad you’re with Leonard. Can we tell Scotty? And Hikaru and Pavel? They worked so hard to try and get you back.”

“I’ll comm them myself right after this. There’s just enough time before I have to be at headquarters for the press conference. Ambassador Spock knows— he helped to verify my identity. Boyce too, and my mom commed this morning.”

“Jim,” Uhura leaned close to the screen. “Take care— give our best to Len.”

Spock raised his hand, fingers parted, and Jim returned the gesture before the connection ended.

Three more emotional conversations later he was already feeling drained, even though the press conference was still to go. When Jim opened the office door he found his uniform hanging on the back; he hadn’t even heard Leonard in the hallway. 

The methodical motions of dressing in the crisp greys was somehow reassuring. Making his way downstairs, he found a sandwich left out on the table and the sounds of enthusiastic bicycling coming from the direction of the garage. Taking a few minutes for himself, Jim ate lunch alone with his thoughts. At some point the laughing and clattering from outside stopped and there was a pounding of small feet in the hallway and them upstairs.

Jim’s comm chirped to announce the arrival of the flitter to take him to HQ. He pushed back his chair and got up to find Leonard was standing by the door with a lopsided smile. “You forgot something.”

“What?”

Stepping up, Leonard opened his hand to reveal a glimpse of silver. Jim’s medals. Instead of handing them over, he stepped closer and carefully pinned them on the younger man’s chest. Smoothing them in place with the palm of his hand, he said, “We’ll be watching you on the holo.”

“I’ll try not to mess up.”

“You? Mess up?” Leonard’s eyebrow quirked upwards, “When have you ever messed up being the center of attention.”

It was an old joke between them, but it didn’t fail to make the tension evaporate from the line of Jim’s shoulders. 

“Go on, Jim. Give them a smile and you’ll make the Andorian Times.”

Jim snorted out a laugh as his comm chimed again, insistently. Sobering, he said, “I’ve got to go.”

“We’ll be waiting.”

********************  
An hour later, Jim was consumed by a cacophony of noise and flashes of light as holocameras jostled to capture the best image.

“Captain Kirk! What was it like to time travel?”

“Over here, sir! For the Risan News! Have you been reunited with your daughter?”

“Will Starfleet confirm the nature of anomaly?”

“Are you sure it was merely a random spatial anomaly? Could it have been related to the trade dispute—”

Jim nodded and waved, his smile becoming a little fixed in front of the barrage. They’d already answered all the questions that were going to be answered during the brief press conference. 

“Captain Kirk! Are you looking forward to retaking command of the Enterprise?”

“Are they reinstating the five year mission?”

“When will you ship out?”

“How will it be to leave your daughter?”

The rest of the questions blurred out into an incomprehensible din as Jim felt a buzzing rise in his ears. _How will it be to leave your daughter?_

It was the official Earth News Network who had asked the question— the channel that was no doubt on the screen in the McCoy household. He could see Bones on the sofa, with Georgia, and something compelled him to reply, “I, uh. I won’t.” 

The stammered words were soft, but the reporters somehow caught enough to push their cameras even closer and demand, “Can you elaborate, sir?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you resigning from Starfleet, Captain Kirk?”

Gretchen Lui, an old mentor of Christopher Pike’s, came to his rescue with a firm, “Thank you for joining us today. We are delighted to welcome back Captain Kirk. His command is a subject for a future briefing.”

The reporters erupted into protests, but Jim allowed himself to be directed off the stage where he didn’t stop walking until he’d shaken off the trailing aides from the admiralty and escaped into the underground flitter parking. Signing out a ‘fleet vehicle, he activated the window tint and headed north along the coastline and out of the city until he parked on a windswept bluff. There was a cold wind off the ocean, but Jim climbed out of the flitter and stood on the rocky ground. Seabirds were soaring and diving in the wind, crying to each other. 

Pulling his uniform jacket more tightly closed, Jim set off along the cliffs.

********************

It was night by the time Jim made his way up the front steps of Leonard’s house. The porch light was on and the door opened at his thumbprint. Most of the house was dark, but a glow at the end of the hall led Jim to the kitchen. Leonard was there— standing next to the stove in a grey t-shirt and jeans. Jim’s mouth dried up at the sight of him.

Meeting his gaze, Leonard asked, “What did you mean, Jim?”

Weakly, Jim replied, “I don’t know, Bones.”

“Just came out?”

Jim nodded, and Leonard returned the gesture with a look on his face best described as fond touched by exasperation. Indicating the kitchen table, the older man gently ordered, “Sit down.” 

Jim sat and waited as the other man bustled around the stove, eventually placing a steaming bowl of soup on the table. Hair in disarray and rosy-cheeked with a brush of windburn, he gratefully tucked into the meal.

Leonard just watched until Jim’s spoon scraped against the bottom of the empty bowl. Removing the bowl and spoon and placing it in the dishwasher, he tugged at the younger man’s shoulder and said, “Come on. It’s late.”

Glancing at the chrono, Jim realized it was late. Surprisingly so. He allowed himself to be led upstairs, past the guest bedroom, and into Leonard’s.

Ignoring a soft, “Bones,” Leonard set about carefully removing Jim’s medals and placing them back in their case, then tugging off the crisp grey jacket. Taking Jim by the shoulders, he maneuvered the younger man towards the bed. Letting go, he crossed to the other side and started stripping off his own clothes, leaving Jim to tackle his own trousers and undershirt.

Unsure, but too tired to care, Jim crawled into the free side of the bed and stretched out on his back as the other man dimmed the lights.

The truth came easily in the dark, even if Jim didn’t fully understand it himself. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to give up the Enterprise.”

Leonard sighed, “I know that too.”

“Is this weird?” Because it was, wasn’t it? Stretched out in the same bed, with a half-meter of mattress between them. “Bones?”

Leonard just sounded tired as he gently replied, “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”


	4. Chapter 4

The morning started with an 0800 summons to the admiralty— well before they’d managed to figure anything out.

Lui stood when Jim entered and waved a hand to the seating area across the room from her desk. It was informal, then, whatever she had to say.

They both took a seat and she regarded him for a moment, then said, “We’ve built five of them.”

“Five, Ma’am?”

“Dreadnoughts.” Jim glanced down and realized the little model on the coffee table between them was indeed Marcus’ creation. “They’re patrolling the neutral zone as we speak.” Jim didn’t know what to make of that, so he simply waited until she continued, “The Enterprise is a vessel of first contact and exploration, not a fighter. Although we significantly upgraded her defenses and offensive capabilities. She’s our best foot forward: the finest scientific instrumentation and an upgraded warp reactor to make her a first responder for humanitarian priorities. Our flagship.”

Jim didn’t know what to make of it: this reimagined Starfleet with heavy gunships. It didn’t sound like Christopher Pike’s humanitarian and peacekeeping armada.

“Three admirals resigned.” Surprise must have registered on Jim’s face, because she nodded and enumerated, “Cohen, X’at’l, and Rhik. They felt we should have destroyed everything Marcus gained from Khan and never made use of it— no matter our good intentions.” Lui’s forehead creased as she admitted, “Perhaps I should have as well.” She gathered herself and continued, “The Klingons have signed a peace treaty and are sulking within their own borders, as have the Romulans. There hasn’t been a single incursion into the neutral zone in over a year. It’s stable, Jim, in a way it never was before.”

She gave him a moment to consider that, then blindsided him with her next statement, “I stayed because of Chris.” There was nothing but honesty in her eyes as she continued, “He believed in what Starfleet was, and what it could be. With conflict off the table, we’re opening up a new era of exploration and stability for planets across the Federation. We need you to continue this work, Jim. This _good_ work.”

“With respect, ma’am—” The beginning of Jim’s objection was swiftly ignored.

“The Vulcan Science Academy has launched a generational ship. They can’t wait for their members to have stable postings on New Vulcan before considering procreation.”

Jim’s thoughts were whirring faster than he could track. “And Starfleet is going to do the same?”

“A hundred years ago we lost a million civilians in Florida; we’re still reeling from the loss of Vulcan, and even San Francisco took thousands of casualties just a few years ago. The old argument that space is far too dangerous for children is being overturned. Especially with the borders secure and peace treaties in place. Ships face the unknown, yes,” her eyes filled with compassion for Jim, but she continued, firmly, “but that doesn’t mean it can’t be a calculated risk for some families. We’re considering a pilot study— one ship.”

“So you think I should take a science vessel, or do diplomatic milk-runs to sign Federation entry treaties?”

“I think you should take the Enterprise.”

Jim’s mouth went dry and it was a moment before he was able to reply, “I have to speak with Bones.” There was no way he could decide this for the both of them. No way at all.

Lui looked satisfied nonetheless as she replied, “Of course.”

********************

Jim didn’t go back to Leonard’s house right away. Instead, he drove out to a hillside on ‘fleet property overlooking the ocean. The Kelvin took up a section of the memorial wall near the middle of the garden and Jim knew the path by heart.

“Hey, Dad.” The white stone was warmed by the morning sun as Jim placed his hand on it. “It’s been a while. You’re a grandfather now— she’s even named after you.” Turning, he slid down the wall until he was sitting against the wall under George Kirk’s name, gazing out at the Pacific.

“I have to decide if I want to take Georgia out there, and the thing is, Dad, I really, _really_ want to be out there myself.” More softly, he admitted, “I’m not ready to stay on Earth.”

A wisp of cloud blotted out the sun and Jim waited for it to pass before he said, “You took me out there. Although I guess I showed up a little earlier than expected.”

“What were you going to do? The Kelvin was supposed to return to Earth before I was born— were you going to ship out without Mom and leave us on Earth? Or park us on a Starbase somewhere and stop by between missions?” The horizon didn’t have any answers, and he’d never talked to his mother about it. He’d learned that young: don’t ask questions about ‘what ifs.’

And what ifs from thirty years ago were nothing compared to what Jim had to decide now. In the distance he could see shuttle traffic breaking atmosphere for the run up to spacedock. That first glimpse of the Enterprise came back to him, pressed against Bones and feeling like he was going to barf all over the both of them. She’d been shining like a jewel against the black, so brightly that all the effects of Melvaran mud fleas just disappeared for that one perfect moment.

Bones used to teasingly call the ship Jim’s baby, and until a few days ago she’d occupied that place as a singular focus of Jim’s existence. Now, well, there was someone who actually deserved that title.

Jim stayed for another half-hour before clambering to his feet, brushing a few strands of dried grass off his trousers, and heading back to his flitter.

********************

Leonard was sitting on the sofa and looked up quickly when Jim rounded the door frame and entered the room. Georgia was conspicuous in her absence, and Leonard confirmed, “I dropped her off at the ‘fleet daycare.” He was speaking softly, so softly, as he continued, “I wasn’t sure how long you’d be, or if we’d need to talk.” 

The implied question of where he’d been for so long was plain. “I stopped by to visit my dad.”

Leonard knew what that meant. Jim tended to visit the memorial when he had big news or needed to make a decision. “Oh?”

It wasn’t a conversation for standing up. Jim moved to sit on the other half of the sofa, taking a moment to gather himself, then softly said, “I don’t know if I can ask this of you. I don’t know if I should.”

“You can ask anything of me, Jim.”

“But this involves Georgia.”

Leonard’s gaze shuttered, as if bracing himself for something as he replied, “She’s your daughter.”

“And she’s yours too.”

Leonard glanced up sharply, as if that wasn’t what he’d expected. “Jim?”

“Lui offered us the Enterprise. All of us.”

“All three of us?”

“All three of us.”

Leonard’s eyebrow quirked, skeptically, “Space is—”

Jim finished the statement, “Disease and danger, wrapped in darkness and silence. I know.”

“And you want to go back out there?”

“I do.”

“Heaven help me, Jim,” Leonard exhaled a gust of breath through his teeth, as if he didn’t quite believe the words he was about to say, “I do too.”

“You do?”

Falling back on familiar bluster, he said, “I can’t let you go out there all alone, can I?”

“I’d be fine, Bones. Georgia—”

“Belongs with us. Both of us. Where you go, we go together.”

There had to be a catch, because Leonard had never been shy about telling people how he felt being dragged by Jim across the universe. There was a note of apology in Jim’s voice as he observed, “I dragged you out there once, Bones.”

“It’s more than just that, Jim. I—” Leonard’s face twisted as if it almost physically pained him to admit, “I _like_ being your CMO. I like chasing the crew with their vaccinations and patching them up and exploring new worlds and discovering new life forms and the humanitarian missions and I can’t imagine you out there doing it without me.” There was a flush to his cheeks as he added, “The command crew are as much my family as anyone save my mother and a few cousins I only see at the holidays. Hell, even Spock has grown on me, now that I’ve seen him with Georgia.”

“You like it?” Jim blinked, “As in, genuinely ‘like’ like it?”

The pained expression on Leonard’s face deepened, “Are you going to make me repeat it?”

Jim would have laughed if he wasn’t feeling so wrong-footed. “So what’s with all the grouching about doom and gloom and exploding eyeballs?”

“It’s _bleeding_ eyeballs. I never said I _always_ liked it.” A hot note of indignation entered Leonard’s tone, “I wasn’t lying about the aviophobia when we met. And space _is_ disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence. We’ve seen that for ourselves.” He met Jim’s gaze and seemed to deflate slightly and clarified, “I like being out there… with you.”

“Bones, are you…” Jim wasn’t quite brave enough to form the question.

Leonard made a strangled noise in his throat and then managed, “I figure it’s mostly you, Jim. truth be told. Or it was at first.”

Jim blinked, voice coming out higher pitched than expected as he replied, “Me?”

“I share it with you. These things you love, and,” Leonard faltered, then managed, “and I’m closer to you for it.”

“And that’s—” Jim’s voice rose further, rasping as he finished, “good?”

“Ask me.” Leonard’s gaze transfixed Jim, leaving him stripped bare and unable to dissemble.

“Can we, Bones? Can we go on the Enterprise together?”

“That depends, Jim.”

“Depends?”

“I—” Leonard cleared his throat, “Now I have to ask something of you; and it was unfair of me to say it depends just now. It doesn’t— we’ll go with you, Jim. No matter what. I promise.” He was rambling, but couldn’t seem to make himself stop.

That caged thing in Jim’s chest started to flutter again, battering against the inside of his ribcage in excitement that _they were going back to the Enterprise_. Still, though, he had to ask, “What do you want to ask, Bones?” Leonard was wild-eyed, as if he’d wound himself up beyond what his nerves could take. Jim slid closer on the cushions and placed his hand over the other man’s as he repeated, “What do you want?”

Leonard swallowed convulsively, gaze skittering down to their hands, and then back to Jim’s face. He swallowed again, “I want more.”

“How much more?”

Leonard slid closer, twisting to fully face Jim, getting a better angle as he slid his free hand up Jim’s arm, and onto the other man’s shoulder. Gently holding Jim in place, Leonard leaned forwards and brushed their lips together. 

Jim didn’t pull away, but he made a little noise that might have been surprise in the back of his throat. 

Not wanting to see rejection on the younger man’s face, Leonard leaned in again with renewed purpose and pressed their lips more firmly together. Jim made another noise, but it wasn’t surprise this time, and his lips opened under Leonard’s, deepening the kiss. 

Eventually, Leonard pulled back and decided the sight of Jim with kiss-swollen lips and wide open eyes was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, save their daughter. 

“I think,” Jim licked his lips, “I think that’s a good idea, Bones.”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t something he’d ever heard Jim express a desire for. Not with Leonard. Not anything long-term with anyone, for that matter.

“Yeah.”

“Then let’s get your boxes out of the attic while she’s not underfoot, but you can unpack them later.”

“Why later?”

“Jim, our preschooler is out of the house.” Amusement and relief mingled on Leonard’s face. “We have better things to do than unpack.”

_Oh_.


	5. Chapter 5

_Five Years Later_

Jim has a small tattoo on the inside of his left wrist, always just hidden by the cuff of his uniform.

A central focus point with a trail of little specks coming off like the tail of a comet. A magnifying glass reveals perfect detail in black and grey, photorealism turning to a texture like bone in the stalk. _“It’s an Earth flower, kind of a weed…”_

The ceremonial tattooist on Betazed had nodded unquestioningly, even as a knowing smile turned up the corner of her lips.

“Dad!”

Georgia’s voice rings across the courtyard and he turns quickly to find her running towards him, Leonard following more sedately behind.

Unlike Leonard, Jim can show his tattoo, if he needs to. Handsy princesses often back off when confronted with a sign of commitment. 

Leonard’s tattoo only appears in public if his scrubs are slung low on his hips and he stretches high up above his head. Which is to say, rarely. Although Jim’s heard through the gossip mill that medbay has caught enough tantalizing glimpses to start speculating in earnest as to what it could be.

Jim would never help them. Betazoid tattoos are a high art. If Jim’s benefits from a magnifier, Leonard’s takes shape under a microscope into a perfect peach blossom encircled by two pairs of initials. _LHMK_ and _JTKM_ — the names they use for themselves, if not official business.

“Hey!” He catches her easily as they collide, swinging her briefly into the air even as he knows Leonard will roll his eyes about future back pain. _She’s eight, Jim, we can’t lift her forever_.

Her uninhibited laughter is like the pealing of a bell as he sets her back on her own feet.

He’d lift her forever to get that reaction, back pain be damned. “What’d you two get up to?”

Georgia brushed her long hair back from her eyes and announced, “I’m going to space camp!” 

Leonard nodded and confirmed, “She’s signed up for the junior explorer series of four Sundays, starting next week.”

“No way,” Jim glanced down and found his daughter practically vibrating with excitement, “Really?”

She nodded, vigorously, and took his hand to lead the way across the quad as she continued, “And we went to see Daddy Len’s friend in xeno-biology and she showed me the Regulan snipe, and then we went to the elementary school and found my classroom, and _then_...”

When the stories didn’t seem inclined to stop any time soon, Jim sidled up to Leonard and stage-whispered, “You do realize that _space camp_ does in fact mean they send the children into space?”

“Did you want to go when you were her age?”

Jim’s footsteps almost faltered, before he masked it and softly admitted, “More than anything.”

Leonard gave a smile that just said, _you see_.

Georgia was still prattling away, seemingly unconcerned with their degree of attention as she led the way while pausing to examine every insect that crossed their path. Slipping his hand into Jim’s free one, Leonard asked, “Debriefing go okay? I wasn’t sure what to tell the school about how long we’d be Earthside.” It was the most innocuous way he could have phrased the question, but Jim sensed the larger one underneath: _and then what_?

“How old is Demora now?

Leonard’s forehead creased at the non-sequitur. “Demora?”

“We’ve been so successful that the Enterprise might be allowed some civilian partners on board as the next extension of piloting a new family deployment policy, so long as they complete a short course on ship’s operations and emergency procedures. I’m sure Ben’s botany degree would interest Spock.”

Leonard’s hand twitched against Jim’s, whether in interest or anxiety, Jim couldn’t quite tell.

Georgia was occupied with a caterpillar and no one else was in listening distance, so Jim continued, “They’ve offered us three years with an extended family policy as a pilot, or five without, but we could keep Georgia with us given it went okay so far.” Another step and he continued, “Or I can take a vice-admiralship at a starbase— a good one, or Earth, of course, if we want to stay.”

Leonard glanced sideways at Jim, hardly needing to read the other man’s expression as he softly asked, “Vice-admirals don’t fly, do they?”

“No.”

“Then where’s the fun in that?”

Jim’s lips quirked in relief and amusement, but he didn’t let himself try to influence the decision.

They walked a few more paces before Leonard softly continued, “I’m not saying we don’t have five more years in us, but we have talked about Georgia having more friends her own age. Three years? With at least several more children close to her age?”

“I can make that stipulation.” He assumed, anyway, given how keen the admiralty was to have them back out there.

Leonard smiled then, a weight of uncertainty obviously lifted from his mind. He took a moment to direct an indulgent look at Georgia as she used Jim’s hand for balance walking along the rim of a fountain. “Mom’s coming out next week. She made sure the house was all set up for us, but thought we might like to settle in together before being swamped by visitors.” They’d only come down from spacedock that morning— Jim being swept straight into the admiralty for in-person debriefing while Leonard.

The house. Jim had only spent three weeks there with Leonard and Georgia after his reappearance, but he found himself yearning for it. Different than shared quarters on the Enterprise, this was a home with a different kind of permanence about it. He gave Leonard’s hand a little tug and asked, ‘How about it— you ready to go home?”

“I’ve been ready all morning.”

Hailing a flitter took barely any time. Georgia spent the whole trip plastered to the window until it turned down a familiar street, passed the park, and then stopped in front of the house that Leonard had bought over five years before. Jim thanked the driver and followed the other two up the steps. 

As Leonard unlocked the door, Jim leaned down and indicated the stoop, “Remember, Georgia, this is where we met.”

She nodded like she did, but Jim wasn’t sure what a three year old could clearly recall. He remembered it perfectly. That moment his life truly changed forever. 

Georgia slipped through the gap as soon as the door cracked open, darting into the living room to explore and then scampering up the stairs. Leonard and Jim followed more sedately, wandering into the living room and encountering the possessions they had left behind. 

Leonard shrugged off the satchel he had slung over one shoulder, depositing it next to the sofa. Looking up, he found Jim had quickly stepped into his personal space. A soft smile was on the younger man’s face as he reached up to cup Leonard’s cheek, guiding him into a kiss. 

“I’m glad we kept it.”

They almost hadn’t, but a colleague of Leonard’s, a friend really, had taken a two-year fellowship at the teaching hospital and promised to look after it, then Boyce had a pregnant graduate student in need of a home who didn’t mind living with someone else’s furnishings. It had been a good arrangement, such that they didn’t feel guilty about leaving prime housing empty in the heart of the city.

Leonard pressed another kiss to Jim’s lips, then replied, “Me too.”

From the look of it, Leonard’s mother hadn’t just supervised getting their things out of ‘Fleet storage, but had actually made sure everything was put back in its place. Five years ago, Jim might have bristled at anyone being so far into his space. Now, though, after a long debriefing, he just felt grateful for the foresight of family.

Remembering Leonard’s question from earlier, Jim offered, “We’ve got at least four months, probably closer to five if Scotty gets the engine upgrades he’s asking for.”

“You request downtime?”

“I’ve got so much leave on the books, Bones, they were practically begging me to take some time off.” Leonard snorted and Jim’s mouth curled in amusement. “As if you’re any better. Need I remind you about that lecture at the teaching hospital on Risa?”

“Dad?”

They turned as one, but from the inflection Jim could tell the question wasn’t directed at him.

Sure enough, Georgia’s gaze was fixed on Leonard as she asked, “I’m hungry. Can we have lunch?”

Remembering the early days in this same house, Jim wagged his eyebrows and added, “Yeah, Bones, I’m hungry too—”

Georgia took the bait just as he’d expected, “Can we have grilled cheese?”

“I dunno.” Leonard glanced sideways. “You want a grilled cheese, Jim?”

“Dad, _please_?”

Jim almost laughed, but managed to keep a straight face as he replied, “Bones does make a great grilled cheese.” He shifted his attention from Georgia to Leonard as he added, “You know, it’s the first thing we ate here.”

Leonard’s brow wrinkled, whether at his sentimental sap of a partner or dredging up the memory. “I remember,” He made a face as if he might laugh, “I recall we ate a lot of grilled cheese that week.”

“Just for lunch, Bones? For dinner we can see if that taqueria you like in the Mission is still open.”

“Culinary heathens, the lot of you, but I’m sure mom will have left us stocked to make grilled cheese sandwiches.” There was nothing but affection in his tone as he rolled his eyes. “Georgia, set the table, please, and I’ll get cooking. Jim: go check that they beamed down our luggage okay. If they’ve lost one of my bags I want to know sooner rather than later.”

Jim made his way upstairs to find the master bedroom just as he remembered it, with a small pile of suitcases and duffel bags at the foot of the bed and a garment bag hanging on the back of the door. Perhaps not _quite_ the same, though. On a whim, he opened the bag that contained his carefully packed keepsakes and pulled out the Avudi funerary beads, draping them over the corner of the mirror. The leather and velvet cases for his medals followed, more than just the Palm Leaf of Axanar Peace Mission now, and he set them carefully on the dresser. Just as Leonard had so many years ago.

Grilled cheese would take a little time. On a whim, Jim pulled his suitcase out of the pile and quickly filled his half of the drawers and closet with clothes, then did the same with Leonard’s. It looked good— their things, side by side. He left the duffel of keepsakes and more personal possessions for the other man to sort out later. The civvies looked inviting, so he quickly shucked off his uniform and replaced it with a soft sweater and well-worn jeans. 

It had been five years, but the path down to the kitchen felt familiar. Pressing a kiss to the top of Georgia’s head, Jim slipped into the seat next to his daughter. She glanced up with a grin, then back to her padd. Somehow, she’d inherited her father’s voracious appetite for books at that age, despite no shortage of people wanting to spend time with her on the Enterprise. Jim had already decided when he was going to start gifting her George Kirk’s paperbacks, and in what order. They’d been his own companions in Iowa years ago.

Leonard turned from the stove, biceps flexing as he lifted the cast iron frying pan off the heat. Bending over the stove had his hair falling forward, a mussiness he didn’t usually display on duty unless things had gone to shit. In a soft grey t-shirt and jeans, it looked _good_. Love swelled in Jim’s chest, so plainly he still wondered at how long it had taken him to recognize the emotion all those years ago.

It must have shown on Jim’s face, because when Leonard met his gaze the older man froze with one hand holding a spatula in mid air. 

The moment passed and Leonard swiftly carried on transferring the sandwiches onto plates and carrying them over to the table. As he passed behind Jim, he deposited the last plate and with his free hand trailed his fingers along the other man’s shoulder, down his arm, and gently pressed his thumb against Jim’s tattoo.

It was an _I love you too_ , without words. 

Sometimes, even when they were just eating in the mess, Leonard would reach across the table and take Jim’s wrist in his hand, rubbing his thumb over where he knew the artwork was hidden.

“Marry me.”

Georgia froze, leaning over her padd.

Jim blinked. “Bones?”

“We’ll be Earthside long enough for a small wedding and a honeymoon. Will you marry me, Jim?”

“Aren’t you supposed to get down on one knee?”

Leonard grinned as he replied, “When have we ever done anything the conventional way?” But he slipped out of his chair just the same, taking a firmer hold of Jim’s hand as he repeated, “Jim, I know we always said we didn’t need some official to pronounce us anything— we’ve known where we stood,” he smoothed his thumb over the tattoo, “and have that sense of permanence already, but never had a chance to celebrate with our friends and family. Will you marry me?”

Mouth open, Georgia looked between the two of them.

Jim’s lip twitched, “We’d have to change the traditional vows. ‘Till death do us part’ doesn’t really work for us.” Sensing that an answer was needed, he sobered and replied, “Bones, yes, I would love to marry you.”

Leonard barked out a laugh that was relief and delight, leaning up for a quick kiss before twisting sideways to ask, “What’dya say, Georgia? You want to host a wedding at the farm this summer?” 

Shrewdly, she cast an eye between her fathers. “Can I have a new dress?”

Leonard didn’t even have to glance at Jim to check before he promised, “We’ll send you and Auntie Ny to pick one out together.”

“Can I try the champagne?”

That made Leonard’s eyebrow raise. Clambering off the floor and onto his chair, he retorted, “Who said we’d have champagne?”

“We will, though.” Jim broke in, “and you’re allowed _one sip_ for the first toast and that’s it.”

Leonard’s eyes narrowed, “Have you been thinking about this before?”

“First toast is always the most important. Where have you been for all our diplomatic missions?”

“Usually wishing I was somewhere else.” Leonard’s grumble carried an undertone of humor, “Like doing brain surgery.”

Jim laughed, reaching across the table to join hands again. They entangled their fingers, lunch forgotten. Softly, he asked, “I’m not complaining, Bones, but what brought that on?”

“What, now?” Leonard’s mouth turned up in a tentative half-smile, “A public proposal on the bridge ain’t my style. I’d thought of doing it back in Georgia, or maybe when we visited your dad, but I guess just being at home with you felt right. It was the first thing we did as a family, sitting at this table having lunch, even if we didn’t know it yet.”

Affection swelled in Jim’s chest and he felt himself getting a little dewy-eyed; he might have been embarrassed, but the emotion was mirrored on Leonard’s face.

Huffing in exasperation at sappy parents, Georgia went back to her book.


End file.
